The People Like Us
by MarthaJones11
Summary: In which Jane and Loki find they have more in common than originally assumed. Lokane.
1. Smoking Her Last Cigarette

The grand table shook violently as Thor slammed another tankard down upon its polished surface.

"And THAT, my friends," he roared over the din of the bursting feast room, "Is how I destroyed the great creatures that poured forth from the sky!" The table, full of warriors and nobles and pandering courtiers, cheered and slammed their own goblets down until the very floor rumbled and expensive wine and ale flooded the ground. Thor called to waiting servants, and young boys and girls quickly dashed from the dark corners of the hall to refill empty cups of guests draining them just as swiftly.

Jane sat quietly beside her betrothed, smiling at Thor's stories and jests shouted down the great table. She sipped at her wine and toyed with the food on her plate. Apparently, no one in Asgard had ever heard of vegetarianism as a lifestyle. It didn't matter, she thought glumly. She was too exhausted from the whirlwind of her arrival and too anxious from Thor's sudden marriage proposal to stomach anything. Looking around the great hall, Jane observed, with the keen eye of a scientist, the action surrounding her. She could clearly distinguish the social classes and economic discrepancies, and would have very much enjoyed talking with those who sat far below her station; those who laughed sincerely and wore plainer clothing. But her status as queen-to-be mandated her to remain on the dais at the place of honor, seated between Thor on one side and Thor's mother, Frigga, on the other. Jane decided she liked the woman, although Thor's father, Odin, made her uneasy with his cold and calculating gaze.

"My darling Jane!" Thor spoke rather loudly beside her, "You've barely touched your wine! Is it not to your liking? I can have another brought. Or two or three more!" He began gesturing to servants in the corner when Jane caught his hand.

"No, Thor, it's wonderful," she lied. "I just…it's rather stuffy in here, isn't it? Perhaps some air on the balcony would-"

"But of course!" Thor exclaimed. "I will have your guards summoned to escort you wherever you wish."

Jane frowned. She had hoped her and Thor could have some much-needed alone time. Since they had arrived in Asgard nearly a week ago, they had been whisked from feast to feast, and in between Thor was always preoccupied with governing the kingdom. They had very little time to themselves.

"I was hoping without the guards…" she mumbled, staring deeply at Thor, praying he would get the message. Apparently, he was already too drunk on strong Asgardian ale for that.

"Ah, perhaps someone more suited to your station, then? Someone you can converse with as your observe your precious stars, dear Jane?" Thor smiled, as though happening upon a brilliant idea. "Brother!" he shouted above the din. Jane's stomach plummeted. She knew where this was headed, but there was no backing out now, not without offending both Thor and his mother, who, though appearing to listen to court gossip, was clearly eavesdropping on their conversation.

Loki, seated several spots down from Thor, pushed back from the table and walked until standing behind his brother. The so-called 'dark prince' of Asgard wore an emerald green and jet-black doublet, laced with gold and covered with an immense black cape. His dark pants and knee-high boots gave the prince a menacing look, one completed by his black hair, pressed tightly against his head, and eyes that burned with intensity and suggested to Jane that Loki was still completely sober.

"You called, dear brother?" he asked, in a voice dripping with sarcasm and boredom. Clearly, Thor did not pick up the disdain.

"Yes, brother I did! Would you escort my betrothed to the balcony? She is in need of air and of more stimulating conversation than her guards can provide," Thor replied with a grin.

Loki glanced lazily at Jane before returning to his brother. "Surely your intended would rather converse with her attendants? I hear there is quite the scandal revolving around some courtier and one of our royal cousins," he responded snidely, smirking slightly at Jane in the process. Jane was quite finished with his attitude.

"I would, Prince Loki," she responded, "But it seems you already know more than the majority of my attendants, and I have no doubt you would weave a better story."

This time, Loki's stare held no sarcasm or mockery, only passionate hatred for the woman who had just insulted him in front of the court and royal family. Thor, meanwhile, oblivious to this subtle exchange, roared with laughter.

"You see, brother? She is feisty and intelligent. Walk with her. Your king commands it," he said in a voice that signified the conversation was finished, and returned to his ale and to another war story. Loki glared at the back of his brother's golden head before turning to Jane, his stare still holding all the hatred of before, but the voice that escaped his lips was dangerously soft.

"My lady," he whispered, offering an outstretched hand to Jane. She gathered her dress in one hand, took his open palm in her other, and rose quickly from her seat, excusing herself to Frigga. The older woman turned and smiled serenely at Jane, as though enjoying a private secret, then returned to her courtiers. With that, they were dismissed, and Loki led Jane away from the grand table and toward the deserted balcony, smiling at subjects and making small talk with those who approached them.

No one else could see his hand becoming increasingly tighter around Jane's wrist.


	2. Run Rabbit Run

Jane had arrived at the end of monsoon season in Asgard, something she did not expect to find in another realm. The land was already less perfect than she imagined. Regardless, she was thankful when the rains took a hiatus the morning of the feast. The humidity had been stifling, and Asgardian fashion in the rainy season trended toward long sleeves and heavy clothing. Her own dress this evening swept along the floor in steel grey waves, winding up her frame in waves and gathering slightly at the hip, continuing upward to a v-frame neckline and long sleeves that wrapped tightly around her arms. Atop loose curls sat a thinly woven silver crown, dotted with tiny flowers and thorns. As elegant as she felt, all Jane wanted was a pair of jeans.

However, the clearing of the rainclouds, even briefly, led to a brilliant sunset that evening. As Jane and Loki passed through the double doors leading to the balcony, they were greeted by a deep purple sky, tinged with flecks of blood red and the golden remnants of the setting sun. Jane gasped, both in awe of the bleeding sky and in pain. Her wrist had begun to ache in Loki's tightening grasp.

"Something amiss, my lady?" her escort asked innocently, but in a voice tinged with thinly veiled violence. His grip did not loosen.

Jane blinked, and turned to face him. "My prince," she began, "While I appreciate your company, I understand if you do not wish to stay. Please return to the feast. You'll be happier, I imagine." She stopped, and stared at Loki's face. To her surprise, he was smiling, almost laughing. His countenance softened, he seemed almost handsome, Jane thought. She shook the idea from her head. He was a murderer, a madman, and she was engaged to the God of Thunder.

"Oh, Jane," Loki laughed, using her name for the first time, "You must be nearly as thick as my dear brother to believe that I would rather return to that audacious feast than be anywhere else – even if it means supervising you." He smiled, his gaze returning the clouds above.

Jane's stare hardened. She was growing tired of Loki's provocations, and this time she took the bait.

"Then, Prince Loki," she responded as her voice toughened and muscles tensed, "I will be returning to the feast. I would rather join those loud, ill-mannered, rambunctious sycophants," she said, her voice escalating with every word as she jabbed Loki in the chest with a finger, "Than remain here a single second longer with you! You are nothing but an angry, frightened child who just couldn't deal with Thor as king." She finished her tirade, staring at Loki, waiting for his next move. Lately, she was upset with everyone – with Thor, with Odin, with herself – and she was hoping for a fight, something to challenge her. She got it.

Loki hesitated. Then, without turning to look at her, grabbed Jane's other wrist, still positioned above his chest, and whipped her around, so she was standing immediately in front of him. Stepping forward, Loki forced Jane backward, effectively pinning her in between his solid form and the marble wall.

Jane cried out as Loki wrenched her hands above her head, holding them to the wall. He leaned in, face inches from her own, his eyes blazing and mouth twitching with rage.

"You…you…" Loki stammered, struggling to contain his fury, "Never presume to understand anything about my life. Never compare me to Thor. We are nothing alike, and I am not jealous of that oaf," he hissed, his grip tightening as his outburst continued. Jane realized she had gotten herself into a very bad situation, and closed her eyes against Loki, picturing the blood-red sky through her tightly shut lids.

"Look. At. Me." Loki whispered, his voice dangerously soft. Jane's eyes remained screwed shut, then fluttered open. Defiant as ever, Jane stared through him, looking across the balcony over the city sprawling below, tinged gold with the setting sun. She wished, more than anything, that she were out there now, roaming the streets and speaking with strangers, travelling from market to goldsmith to brewer, experiencing the life of an ordinary person. Instead, she was here. On this marble balcony. Escaping a party of people she hated, thrown in honor of the man she wasn't sure she loved, held tightly in the grasp of a man who had attempted to destroy two realms.

Firm fingers along her jawline snapped Jane out of her daydream. They lifted her face to look into Loki's eyes. Eyes, she noted, that were filled with anger, hatred, and something else. Pain, she discerned. A deep and bottomless pain. She recognized the feeling…she had felt it all her life since the death of her parents.

She tried to respond, tried to think of something clever to say or something to heal his pain. All she mustered was a faint "I'm so sorry" through tight lips as she attempted to wrench her face away from Loki's grasp. His grip was incredibly strong, however, and she knew there would be bruises come the morning on her face and wrists. He leaned in closely, the bloody sky gleaming off the golden-tinged silk framing his tall body.

"No," he whispered, "You're not sorry for me. You're sorry for you. And for the life you're being forced to live. And I am also sorry for you, Jane Foster."

With that, Loki released her from his iron grip and retreated down the balcony steps to the gardens, leaving Jane rubbing her wrists and staring into the darkening sky with blurred eyes.


	3. You Can't Take the Sky From Me

**Thank you all so much for reviewing! Your comments help me develop Jane and Loki, so keep the feedback up and you'll have one very happy author! This chapter doesn't have as much action, but I promise more Lokane is forthcoming. Enjoy!**

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The marble bench onto which Jane threw herself was cold and hard under her back. She laid down and faced the sky, still tinged with hints of purple fading into an inky blackness. A few bright stars had begun to show their faces. Were she on Earth, Jane would have recognized them as Venus, or perhaps Arctorus. But here, her days and nights were spent at dress fittings and feasts, things that were expected of her as Thor's betrothed, but things that left no time for learning or reading. Jane sighed. The Great Library, which she had seen only once in passing, was more amazing and extensive than anything on Earth. The rows spanned for miles, and the shelves stretched unto the ceiling, which was painted with a map of the celestial beings that nightly danced across Asgard's sky.

But she was not permitted to linger; one of her handmaidens steered her into another corridor, where a dress was fitted for her first meeting with the royal family. Any other woman would have been thrilled to be pandered to, and to have color and style choices beyond her wildest dream. All Jane wanted, as the seamstresses stuck pins into her sides, was to return to the library and lose herself in infinite knowledge.

"My lady!" a voice sounded from the glass doorway of the balcony. Jane jumped from her ungraceful stargazing position and sat ramrod straight, hands folded neatly in her lap. One of her handmaidens, a young girl named Asmor, had ventured onto the balcony and was viewing her with concern.

"My lady, you should not be here alone. Where are your guards? Are you not chilled? Shall I fetch the King?" questions rolled off the young girl's tongue, and Jane could not help but smile. Asmor had been silent when the first met, but had recently opened up after Jane guided her through problems with a young suitor. Now, she followed Jane everywhere and was constantly by her side. Jane was surprised it took the girl this long to find her.

"No, Asmor, thank you for asking. I'm fine, but require some time alone." Jane noticed the girl forming a rebuttal, doubtless ready to fetch her guards. "Prince Loki is escorting me," she added quickly, before Asmor said anything. "He has momentarily gone into the gardens to fetch a rare plant I wished to see." Jane prayed the lie would pacify her young and eager handmaiden.

Luck was with her, for the first time that week. "Very well, my lady," Asmor responded, grinning slightly. Jane noticed that the look was very similar to that Frigga wore when she and Loki left the grand table. "I trust that the Prince will return soon." With that, the girl gathered her long, rose-colored dress and left Jane alone on the balcony again.

Jane let out a long breath that she had been holding. Loki was not a golden and dashing king, she knew, but for some reason she felt strangely drawn to the dark prince. Something about his manner, his way of speaking and acting, his shirking of traditional warrior training in favor of long hours in his study, all these things piqued Jane's curiosity about him. And that pain, she thought, that deep pain behind his anger. That drew her even close to Loki. She knew the demigod was dangerous; her sore wrists could account for that. But Jane was never one to leave a problem go unsolved; never one to leave someone behind who needed a helping hand.

She sighed. Jane knew she could either remain on the balcony and risk another handmaiden or one of the guards finding her, or she could venture into the vast garden that spanned acres behind the palace. She glanced inside the glass doors. Beyond the dancing subjects and boisterous musicians, Jane could see Thor seated on the dais, roaring with laughter and calling for more ale. She smiled. Thor was a good man with a proclivity for joyfulness and feasts and fighting. She would be happy with him, Jane told herself.

Looking away from the feast and into the gardens, Jane saw the tangled rows of bushes and flowering plants that formed the base of the immense plot. Her gaze followed massive trees upward, trees with pale white bark and flowers that only bloomed on the brightest of nights, when the full moon illuminated the expanse. She could smell the aromas rising, flowers that smelled of lavender and honeysuckle filled her and called to her.

With a lingering glance at the feast, Jane gathered her dress and dashed down the marble staircase into the awaiting garden.


	4. Cocktail In Her Hand

Frigga felt her husband before she turned to acknowledge him standing behind her chair. Swinging one arm gracefully over its back and holding a chalice in the other, she turned to smile serenely at Odin, who extended a gloved hand to his wife.

"Might I interest you in a dance, my lady?" her husband asked, mirroring Frigga's smile. The designated royal dancing area had cleared out, its previous inhabitants of young and energetic royals had disappeared. Due to free-flowing ale and wine, everyone knew where the youthful members had fled.

Standing gracefully from her seat, Frigga took her husband's hand and allowed him to lead her around the dais and into the dancing area. Courtiers and servants bowed deeply when the couple passed by, stepping to the side to allow them to pass through. Odin's slight smile, barely perceptible, contrasted with his wife's beaming countenance; she smiled and laughed with everyone they passed, from noble to maidservant. They made a handsome couple; the reserved and imposing husband, and the outgoing and approachable wife. Upon reaching the dancing area, Odin gracefully spun Frigga around and placed a hand lightly around the small of her back. She responded by placing her free hand upon Odin's gilded shoulder. The gleaming armor her husband sported complemented the muted golden dress that Frigga wore. Together, they danced slowly and serenely around the floor.

"Thor is rather stately this evening," Odin noted, switching hands with Frigga and leading her in the opposite direction.

She nodded slowly. "Yes. He looks every inch a king," she responded, allowing Odin to change direction of their dance. "But Jane seems…anxious," she finished, searching for the proper word to describe her eldest son's betrothed.

"Yes, I had noticed her disappearance some time ago," Odin replied, his eye darting around the feast room, which was becoming more boisterous, if possible. "And do not think, Frigga, that I missed Loki leading her away from the dais. I assume the idea was yours."

Frigga smirked. "Why, husband, I wouldn't dare suggest such a thing. Thor himself called for Loki to escort Jane." She shrugged her shoulders and quickly switched hands with Odin, forcing him to lead the pair in the opposite direction again.

Odin sighed. "Frigga, I feel the same as you regarding this matter. Thor and Jane are not properly suited. I felt it as soon they stood before me in the Throne Room." He spun his wife deftly in a tight circle before resuming. "Why do you think I've been so distant to her? She would die, emotionally and spiritually, if forced to remain here as Thor's wife."

Frigga frowned and looked away, down past the tables laden with food and ale, out the balcony doors. Her eyes searched for her son and Jane, but the pair was hidden from view. Suddenly, a flash of black and green darted from a corner and descended the stairs into the garden. She then noticed Jane wandering out from the wall and throwing herself onto a marble bench. Frigga sighed and turned back to Odin.

"But you do have another son," she whispered, her voice nearly imperceptible but to her husband. She stopped moving her feet and allowed Odin to fling her gracefully away from him, only to return, twirling, into his arms. With hands resting on her husband's chest, she murmured into her husband's ear. "You know this. You have seen it."

As the music ended, Odin bowed to his wife as she returned a flowing curtsy. Before they could exit, he again pulled his wife against his armored chest.

"I have seen it," he whispered back. "And I cannot say anything. And neither will you. If Thor thinks we played a hand in his marriage's ending, it may further widen the rift between him and Loki, a thing that must not happen." Odin closed his eyes and leaned a cheek against his wife's forehead. "Frigga," he said quietly, "Loki and Thor still have parts to play together. I will not allow a mortal woman to come between them. They must reach this conclusion on their own." With that, he again took Frigga's hand in his own and began the walk to the dais.

Beside him, Frigga glanced out to the balcony, and noted a flash of grey as Jane dashed down the stairs to the garden. She smiled.


	5. Climbing Upward To The Starry Field

**Thank you all for your wonderful reviews! We're back to some Lokane action this chapter...enjoy!**

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The last of the clouds had disappeared, leaving the inky black sky alight with unknown constellations and a single, gleaming moon. As Jane rushed past towering trees with pale bark and blooming flowers that smelled faintly of pine needles, she noted the clearing sky and silver moon that guided her footsteps. She paused in a small clearing and looked around, taking in the beauty of the surrounding gardens. Clearing her head and slowing her breath, Jane allowed herself to be fully immersed in the natural world, something she had not experienced since arriving in Asgard. Beneath her bare feet – uncomfortable sandals long since left behind – the soft green grasses and low-growing willows cushioned her steps. Around her, bushes with flowers and nuts and leaves of every color and pattern formed a muted canvas in the dark night. Above, the pale trees of Asgard stretched to the sky, their bark reflecting the moonlight and their flowers bursting in the cool night air. Jane closed her eyes, enjoying the scents of pine and honeysuckle that enveloped her. Around, she heard the chirping of Asgardian crickets and hooting of nocturnal birds, the clamor of the feast far behind her.

Jane's eyes shot open as she heard another noise – that of softly flowing water nearby. Reluctantly leaving her natural haven, she crept softly through the tangled vines, heavy with white, blooming flowers, and pushed aside low-hanging branches. Just beyond a grove of fruit trees, she found the small pool. Above, white branches formed a ceiling, their flowers drooping low above the surface. To her left, a small waterfall bubbled softly into the shallow pool, creating tiny ripples in the surface of the water. To her right, a man sat next to the surface of the water, his legs crossed lazily in front of him as one hand supported his weight and another swept back and forth above the pool. Beneath his swaying hand, the water was rising up and forming shapes – first, a cube, now, a hollow sphere, now, a teardrop – and was dropped careless back onto the surface. Even in the darkness of the night, the moonlight showed Jane that this was Loki; his armor gleamed silver in the moonlight, his hair contrasted with the paleness of his face. She crept silently back into the grove, meaning to approach from another way, when his voice sounded out.

"I know you are there, Jane Foster," he said quietly, in a defeated voice that held no violence. He did not look away from the surface of the water, nor did forms stop taking shape.

Jane stopped and stared, then walked quickly to his side, sitting down next to him. Loki glanced at her from the corner of his eye, but said nothing and returned to the water.

"How…how do you move the water?" she asked, wanting to fill the silence between them.

She saw Loki roll his eyes. "I do not move the water, mortal," he responded. Jane tensed and expected him to either stop talking or to insult her race again. Neither happened.

"I move the air surrounding the water," he continued, eyes still on the shapes he formed. Now, an arrow, then a dagger, then a horse that galloped across the surface and disappeared below. His forms were becoming more elaborate and lifelike, Jane noted.

"So, it's not unlike moving a bookshelf," she stated, her eyes on the pool where the horse had gone under. Feeling Loki's eyes on hers, she turned to face the prince, who was eying her skeptically. "You know," she continued quickly, "If I wanted to move a series of books across a room, it would be easier to move the bookcase surrounding them than to individually move each book…" She trailed off. Loki probably thought she was crazy, rambling on about books and shelving units. To her surprise, he turned away and continued conjuring shapes from the water.

"An interesting comparison, my lady," he said. "Do you spend much time in the Royal Library, then?" A warrior practicing for battle, a woman writing furiously, and a magician above a caldron all sprung from Loki's hand and disappeared beneath the surface.

"No," Jane responded sadly. "I've been very busy going to feasts and having dress fittings. I would spend every waking minute there, but Thor needs me with him right now."

Loki sighed. "My brother needs everyone in their own time," he replied. "Soon, you will be wed, Jane Foster, and my brother will leave you for weeks at a time, off fighting or practicing diplomacy. The only stars you see will be those from your chambers. The only freedom you have will be a daily trip to the Royal Market, surrounded by guards and handmaidens."

Jane, shocked and upset at his brash words, struggled to form a response, but Loki cut her off again.

"Do not take offense at my words, Jane Foster," he continued sadly. "I have seen the way you look at the stars, the path of your gaze into the city streets, the longing your eyes show for knowledge of everything in this world. These things, you will not experience as Queen of Asgard beside Thor," he finished, returning to conjuring above the water.

Jane sat stunned beside him. She knew he was right, but she had been avoiding these conclusions ever since arriving in Asgard. She wanted to live here and experience everything and be free, but as Thor's queen, she would be expected to sit by his side and oversee the workings of the royal compound. Her dreams of exploring the realm and seeing the stars crumpled and wilted, drooping to the ground like flowers burned to dust.

"I feel trapped," she whispered, the passion in her voice gone. Loki noticed, and his droplets fell back to the surface of the water. Slowly rising to his feet, the prince gazed down at Jane and extended a hand. This time, when she took it, Jane noticed the calloused skin and roughness, hands that clearly left the palace often and had experienced much of the realm. Slowly standing, Jane kept her face turned away from Loki, looking out over the pool, whose surface was reflecting the brilliant blue and white stars that danced overhead. A soft hand alongside her jaw turned her to face Loki, whose eyes had softened and seemingly aged a thousand years. His eyes had seen, had experienced, had lived, Jane realized. These were the eyes of someone who had felt love and pain, who knew joy and sorrow outside of gilded palace walls.

"Then, Jane Foster, let me free you," Loki whispered softly, and his lips descended slowly upon Jane's until she thought the whole world would be swallowed up by Loki and his gleaming armor and the softly bubbling waterfall and the late summer honeysuckle.


	6. Hate Sits Alone

"Jane?" the deep voice rumbled behind her back, the single word holding both pain and anger.

Her breath hitched in her throat. Without turning around, Jane looked up and into Loki's eyes. The prince had stopped, mere inches from his intended kiss, and his face remained blank and impassive. Suddenly, he smiled and laughed softly, standing up to his full height.

"It seems my brother is unhappy, my lady," Loki said. "Perhaps you should explain your actions to your betrothed." His slight smirk, which Thor might have missed, did not escape Jane. Her eyes glazed over with tears, the beauty of the night dissolving into swirls of black and pale blue that threatened to run down her face. But she didn't want to cry in front of these two men; she could not show weakness.

A sharp crack broke through the chirping crickets, and a flash of steel grey darted into the grove, leaving Loki holding his reddening face and Thor standing mere feet away from his brother, torn between chasing after Jane and confronting Loki. He chose the latter. Closing his eyes and turning to face the pool, Thor slowly lowered himself to the ground and sat cross-legged upon his flowing golden cape. Without turning to face his brother, Thor spoke softly, in a voice that seemed out of place for the God of Thunder.

"I…I had noticed Jane was gone for quite some time," he began, "and I had hoped to dance with her…it was getting quieter in the Great Hall…I thought she would like that…" Thor's voice trailed off, and he turned to face Loki, who stood staring over the pool's surface. "Brother…why?" he asked the pale-skinned man, his voice cracking with emotion as he forced the last question out of a tight throat.

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Jane's tears flowed freely now. Away from Thor and Loki and dashing through the garden, she sobbed as she gasped for breath, stopping to lean against a pale tree and clutching its low-hanging branches for support. She cried for Thor's pain, for Loki's betrayal, for her own weakness, for the lie she was living – but primarily, she cried for a reason that she could not identify. Jane was never one to depend on a man; if marriage happened, she thought, so be it. But here she was, betrothed to Thor but potentially pining after Loki.

Loki, she chastised herself sharply, the demigod who had ignored her and insulted her and broke her down and embarrassed her in front of Thor. He was no Thor. Thor was kind and gentle and, although not necessarily the most perceptive, he meant well. Loki – well, he was unpredictable, erratic, arrogant, her list went on. But still, what was it?

Jane looked up into the night sky, observing the stars and nebulae that had recently become more visible. Swirls of red and gold contrasted with bursts of green that faded into the dark void. She slowed her breath and she identified the constellations, naming the star formations and clusters that dotted the canvas. To the east, Asgard's second moon was rising, following the trajectory of its larger sister. The nightly dance of the stars and planets both calmed and excited Jane, giving her a respite from the stressors of the previous week and of that evening. Sinking to the ground, she rested against the smooth bark of the tree, staring up at the glowing sky.

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Loki sighed deeply. He hadn't meant to hurt Jane or Thor, but somehow he came out looking terrible. Not unlike most situations in his life, Loki thought bitterly. Every attempt to help govern the kingdoms or advance the Asgardian cause had been met with disdain or negative reactions from his brother or father. Now, even as he tried to help Jane and Thor, his intentions came across as selfish and mean-spirited – he understood this. He had been purposefully cruel toward the mortal in an attempt to break apart their bond, but to no avail. And he couldn't explain it to Thor, his brother would not understand…

"Brother." Thor's voice broke into his thoughts. "You know I love you, but this…I do not understand. Please…please try to explain…"

Loki stood abruptly, his eyes flashing with the reflecting stars off the surface of the pool. Had the night been slightly brighter, Thor would have noticed the clear tears running down his brother's face. But the night was dark, and Loki turned quickly away from his golden brother.

"Thor," Loki began, his eyes darting from the grove to the pool's surface to the glowing night sky, "it is…complicated. I…you know I have…you know what I am," he stuttered, his voice constricted by approaching tears and becoming grating and harsh, as happened when discussing his hated ancestry.

"You are my brother," Thor responded softly. "Beyond that, it does not matter."

Loki whipped around, his eyes blazing with pain and hatred, his voice seething in the midnight air. "It matters to me!" he hissed. "It matters because, although I appear Asgardian, my blood is Jotun. The blood that runs through my veins determines how I act, how I speak, who I connect with…and who I love," he finished, the anger in his voice shifting into pain and despair.

"And who I love," he repeatedly slowly.


	7. Where My Dreams Are Gold

**Thanks again for the wonderful reviews! They really do help and I appreciate them! Sorry for the wait...I've been having a rough week. Enjoy!**

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Jane hoisted herself to her feet and glanced around. The moons were high; it was late, and she was completely exhausted from the evening; the adrenaline that had pulsed through her body the past few hours had trickled away, leaving her drained physically and emotionally. Lightly stretching to wake up her heavy-feeling limbs, Jane turned away from the small clearing and began making her way back to the palace. For once, she was glad for the thickness of the gown; the air had become chilly with the clearing of the rainclouds, and Jane could barely see the palace in the distance as she walked through the garden. She sighed. She didn't want to return to Thor and Loki, not now, not tonight, but the long walk was bound to be lonely.

Suddenly, she remembered the gift Frigga had given her upon arrival; that was Asgardian custom, apparently. Host families gave their guests some present that would become useful in their stay. Frigga had taken her aside that evening and pressed a small, golden disk into her hand, about the size of a pocket watch, and engraved around the edge with ruins unreadable by Jane. She had looked questioningly at Frigga as the older woman smiled and explained the purpose of the seemingly nondescript gift from the royal family.

"It's a memory marker," Frigga had said. "Use it only when you're alone. Hold it like so," she demonstrated, clasping three fingers of her right hand along the outer edge of the golden disk, "and recall to mind everything you wish stored within. To retrieve your memories, use your left hand to hold the edges instead of your right." Jane had thanked the older woman, but viewed the disk as a glorified diary; besides, she was never alone and never had the opportunity to use the memory marker.

But now, she figured, she might as well give it a try. Miles to the palace and a lack of anyone around would give her the perfect chance to record a few of her memories since her arrival in Asgard. Fishing into her pockets (which Jane had demanded be sewn into all her dresses and clothing) she wrapped her fingers around the smooth, golden surface and pulled the marker out. It caught the moonlight and shown brightly in Jane's hand. She smiled, tracing a finger over the incomprehensible ruins engraved along the edge, before grasping it firmly and calling to mind all that she could of the past week. Flashes of memory suddenly sprung to her mind, and Jane cried out as the onslaught of recollections flashed by like train cars hurtling past. She barely saw one memory as another took its place, and she collapsed to the ground as the ambush of things remembered continued.

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She arrived on Asgard at the edge of a shattered bridge that blazed with the colors of a thousand rainbows and reflected the golden sky above and depths of purple sea below.

A massive man with a deep voice welcomed her, his eyes flashing but never looking directly at her, his massive sword held firmly between powerful hands.

The convoy met them at the edge of the bridge, hundreds of honor guards and servants, and three warriors whom Jane remembered from some distant time on Earth.

The massive palace loomed overhead. Thor lightly touched her shoulder and she turned to face him with anxious eyes. He smiled and laughed softly, bringing her closer to his side as they entered through the first set of golden gates.

She was being swept away from Thor as attendants greeted them in the massive atrium, the overhead ceiling a massive, swirling portrait of Asgardian history that reflected off marble tiles below. He shouted that he would meet up with her before greeting his parents.

A flash of green and silver darted past Jane as her attendants gossiped and chatted and asked her about fashion.

She was being quickly fitted into a gown of red and grey that wrapped loosely around her body and swept along the floor. Her attendants quickly informed her of proper etiquette when greeting the former king and queen as she nodded, wide-eyed and anxious.

Standing outside a massive wooden door, Jane turned to face Thor, who smiled and reminded her to pull the deep red hood over her hair. Apparently, it was a gesture of respect in Asgardian culture. She quickly obliged as the doors began to open.

The former king and queen rose from their seats and pulled herself and Thor from their kneeling position, the queen full of smiles and the king full of coldness.

Thor called to someone Jane could not see. Suddenly, a tall, pale man stood aside her, introducing himself and bowing shortly before retreating back into the shadows without a smile.

A soft, pillowed bed enveloped her in sleep.

Handmaidens woke her with the sun, demanding she rise and eat. A plate of meat and bread was set before her. She ate the bread and sent the rest back.

An older, larger woman entered her chambers. She handed Jane a large book and a thin, flattened silver sheet that resembled a small piece of paper. The silver page was pressed against her forehead, followed by the cover of the enormous book. Everything went black.

She woke up the next day, confused and speaking strangely, with an incredible headache.

Her chambermaid rushed from the room, returning with Thor and the tall, pale man whom Jane remembered to be Loki.

Thor was sitting next to her, explaining that the woman was the Knowledge Keeper of Asgard and she had imparted all understanding of Asgardian society to Jane.

She complained of a headache.

Thor summoned Loki to her bedside. He harshly pressed a hand to her forehead. The pain disappeared.

Her forehead burned where he touched. Loki jumped back and glared, then turned and stalked from the room.

She was being whisked away by her chambermaids.

Surrounded by gowns and fabric with colors like danced like the sky on a clear Asgardian night, Jane was asked to pick her favorites. Maids and seamstresses flocked around her, taking measurements and drawing out lengths of material.

Feasts. So many feasts and balls and dances.

A flash of green and silver, brushing past her in the grand hallway, snapping at her and insulting her mortal heritage.

Compliments on her receptiveness to the Knowledge Keeper's transfer of language and culture from Frigga.

A clear night on the balcony, green and silver confronting her.

Smells of honeysuckle and lavender.

Shapes in the water.

Green and silver.

* * *

Jane's fingers unclasped the memory marker, exhausted. Everything had been imparted to the golden disk through the onslaught. She had nothing left. Her strength had all been spent storing memories. On the soft green grass beneath her, Jane drifted off to sleep, pale silver trees forming a canopy overhead and faint scents of honeysuckle wandering skyward to the moons.


	8. Heal Our Brokenness

**Sorry for the hiatus! I've been busy with school (that necessary menace). In other news, I've seen Thor: The Dark World twice now (because that's how my crew rolls) and was wondering what you all thought of it? Share in the comments, try not to spoil the movie for people who haven't seen it, and as always, thanks for the reviews!**

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The dagger stood quivering in the green moss, stuck firmly where it had been flung harshly into the ground. Loki stalked away from his discarded weapon, pacing the banks of the small lake with jagged step and ragged, breathe, hands clasped behind his back. His eyes searched the sky, finding the moons risen and the stars mirroring the lake, their orange and green and blue swirls dancing across the black surface. Their beauty blurred as his eyes glazed over. Someone was going to get hurt in this situation, he realized. Either Thor, or himself, or possibly even Jane, he thought with a sharp pang of regret. If she married Thor, none of them would be happy in the end, but that's what she was supposed to do. If the tiny mortal played the game, Loki thought furiously, his anger rising as the thoughts mounted, then both himself and Jane would be lost in grief, their connection remaining but their joining impossible. And Thor too, he realized, would ultimately become miserable through Jane's sorrow. But if Jane chose him over Thor, Loki thought, his mind calming as the thought filled him with excitement, then the two of them would obviously be completed, and Thor would, in the end, be happier with someone who suited his interests better.

"Brother," came the voice from behind him, stopping Loki in his tracks. He remained facing the lake, then turned on a single heel to face Thor, hands still clasped behind his back, posture ramrod straight. "Yes, Thor, I know," Loki said, sighing slightly and walking over to his brother, who was still sitting on the forest floor. "You want me to explain my connection with Jane." Loki smiled, a look of compassion darting quickly over his features before being replaced with an attempted indifference, which Thor immediately saw through.

"Come now, Loki," he said, gesturing to the ground beside him as Loki slowly lowered himself to sit aside his brother, "I know that look. You're trying to cover your emotions. I'm not as thick as you'd like to believe, dear brother." Loki sighed and brought his knees to his chest, clasping his hands before his legs and remaining silent. The smell of honeysuckle hung heavy in the air, reminding him of her. He mentally slapped himself. The mortal woman was nothing to him, nothing but weakness and stupidity and…and beauty and intelligence and bravery, and nebulae bursting into flame, and golden swirls of skyward clouds, and stardust burning brightly the nighttime air. "Damn," he said under his breath, hoping Thor did not hear. No matter how he tried, he could not get the mortal out of his mind. From the moment their skin had made contact in her chambers, he had recognized the bond, and had spent the entire week attempting to distance himself, to make himself unavailable and unattractive in every manner. But that mortal women just had to follow him into the gardens and create this entire mess, she-

"Swearing again, are we?" Thor jested from beside him, offering a short smile. "Come brother. I am willing to listen. I need to understand," he said, eyes pleading and glossing over. "I…I love her, Loki," he said quietly.

Loki laughed harshly, and then turned to face his brother. "Love," he said mockingly. "Do you know what love is, brother? How could you understand that love is more than beauty, more than a pretty face that dotes upon you and waits for you? Love is a burn, a brand upon your skin that can never be forgotten. It is an ache in the heart and a sear in the bones, a flame that scorches singes every fiber of your being, until you believe that you would die from the agony, but releasing the fire would hurl you into the cold abyss of death, from which escape is impossible. That is love, brother," Loki finished his tirade, throwing himself to his feet and stalking to the edge of the lake. "And your mortal," he spat, his voice both quiet and burning with intensity, "Brought with her the spark that lit my soul ablaze."

Thor sat staring at his brother's form silhouetted by the darkness of the lake. Around him, the stars danced and mingled with green orbs of dust that shot from neighboring clusters. He found his voice. "Brother," Thor started softly, "How can you know? How can you feel these things? How do you know that I do not share these sentiments?"

Loki spun around, eyes blazing in the moonlight. "Because, Thor," he hissed, "The love I describe is of an intensity only perceivable by Frost Giants. You Asgardians," he said, gesturing at Thor, "Are incapable of this feeling. You feel love as most humans do, as something beautiful and something to be cherished. Frost Giants, on the other hand, see love as dangerous and overwhelming, something to be avoided at all costs." Loki closed his eyes, breathing in the scent of honeysuckle to calm himself, then continued more quietly. "Frost Giants rarely join for life. We mate, produce offspring, then separate. Finding love is an occurrence that hardly ever occurs, and when it does, both partners are intensely aware of the bond."

Loki paused and glanced toward Thor. His brother had stood at some point during the tirade, and was now leaning against a nearby tree, his eyes staring unflinchingly at Loki, his hands toying with a twig, slowly breaking off pieces and casting them into the grove. Thor nodded slightly, silently urging his brother on as another piece snapped off and was discarded, tossed into the trees. Loki sighed and continued.

"Frost Giants have mated with humans in the past, and there are legends where a human and a Frost Giant have married," he said slowly, choosing each word with great and delicate care. "When I touched Jane Foster's forehead in her chambers in an attempt to heal her pains, through my head flashed the names of every Frost Giant and human pair to ever marry. I saw their past, I saw our present…and I saw our future," Loki said softly. "The rush was immense, hence why I left the room immediately. Likely, your mortal did not experience the same reaction, but she has doubtless felt the effect of our bond in other ways." Loki knew his next words needed to be chosen with the utmost care. He spoke slowly, allowing every expression of sorrow to pass his face. "Thor, Jane Foster and I share the rare and intense bond of a Frost Giant and a human destined to marry. I do not take joy in this fact. Our bond burns my soul, it lights my skin on fire and sears my brain with my every attempt to avoid it. Such a bond is impossible to avoid. I cannot – "

Loki stopped speaking and clutched his head. Suddenly hit with a wave of nausea and dizziness, he fell to his knees, buckling over and pressing his forehead to the ground in an attempt to stop the world from spinning. He felt strong hands on his shoulders, and distantly heard his brother's voice, asking, "What's wrong? Brother, what is it?" But all Loki could feel were the pine needles underfoot, all he could experience was the world through Jane Foster's eyes as she sunk to the ground, eyes staring skyward to the pale bark and green canopy of the overarching trees, and golden disk falling to the ground from her cold hands. He gasped for breath, pushing away Thor's hands and struggling to find his balance.

"Jane," he panted, struggling through the pain, "She's hurt and unconscious. We have to go, Thor," he said, staggering over to his discarded dagger and wrenching it from the ground. He sheathed his securely in his belt and turned to face Thor, who had already sprung into the grove and was bellowing Jane's name loudly. Loki stopped, closing his eyes to realign himself, and rushed after him, the world and the swirling stardust and the sweet honeysuckle disappearing as he focused on the vision of Jane, unconscious on the forest floor and guarded by the pale trees.


	9. My Story Seldom Told

**You guys! Thank you for the reviews...it's always encouraging to hear you're all enjoying! Sorry for the long wait-I'm plunging headfirst into finals, but I'll try to update more frequently. Thanks for the support!**

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Jane was on Earth. Puente Antiguo, to be exact. Except it wasn't quite the small town in the desert of New Mexico that she remembered, because everything was blue, a deep, icy, glistening blue. The buildings, just as she remembered them, were shades of blue and grey that stretched upward to the dimly lit sky. Underfoot, light blue sand crunched and smooth pebbles of grey slid beside her bare feet. She looked around. The silence was deafening, the empty streets filled her with both dread and curiosity. She stepped away from the main street and started walking toward the outskirts of town, following a streak of deep blue that slashed across the greying sky, dotted with stars and three large silver moons.

She moved as though in a dream, but everything was so real. Her feet carried her swiftly away from the town and into the deep blue desert, where, on the horizon, beneath the streak of deep blue, Jane could make out hazy figures walking toward her. She tried to turn away, but her feet overruled, and she continued toward the figures, which were grower larger and more defined. The sky grew lighter, illuminating a soft glow around their bodies. Closer, closer, now nearly close enough to shake hands, Jane fairly floated up to the figures. Half were human. They were men and women both, old and young, And every human was holding the hand of another figure, something that looked human but was very alien.

The alien figures were a deep blue, a blue that matched the streak overhead in the lightening sky. Their faces and visible bodies were marked with lines and symbols that formed some sort of writing, a form of ancient ruins that Jane could not read. She recognized these creatures; somewhere in her memory, she realized they were the frost giants of Jotunheim. And they were holding hands with humans.

She approached the nearest pair. There were nearly twenty total. This pair consisted of an elderly human woman and a frost giant with sad eyes. The woman was clearly of Indian descent. Her long, white hair was braided behind a smiling face, and her body was wrapped in fabrics of red and gold. Jane floated to the woman and felt herself smiling, felt herself warming from within and drawn to the couple. She wanted to form words and ask so many questions, but her mouth wouldn't work. All she could do was gesture at the pair, prompting the frost giant to firmly grab her hands and shake his head, glancing at the woman beside him. She smiled, then gently took Jane's head in her hands and leaned forward until their foreheads were touching.

Jane gasped. Through her head pulsed images, flashing like those of the memory marker. She saw this elderly woman as young and vibrant, her beautiful smile flashing through a haze of colors and chanting. She saw the old frost giant with sad eyes as young and proud, his eyes flashing with excitement. The two were meeting in an alley between buildings of red clay. The woman didn't seem to care about the frost giant's appearance. She saw them dashing through streets at night, visiting the temples and performing puja when the rest of the world was sleeping. She felt the love and the connection and the bond and the pain.

The woman released her and Jane floated back, shaking her head violently at the couple before her. A human and a frost giant. Impossible, but yet, here in front of her, their bond actually physically palpable and observable in the blue haze surrounding their bodies, stood nearly ten couples of that very combination. It wasn't the thing that bothered her the most. What scared Jane was the feeling emanating from their bodies and surrounding her own. It was the same sensation she felt around Loki; the combination of fear and curiosity and connection that drew her to him. She felt it here, surrounding these couples.

She wanted to ask so many questions, needed so many answers. She wanted to experience the stories of all these pairs, to understand their past, to determine exactly where she was. She wanted to know about her and about Thor and about Loki, and she felt these people held the answers. But overhead, coming from some gaping hole in the sky, she heard voices calling her name. The deep blue streak was opening, and through its crack she saw the sky of Asgard and the stretching trees of the garden. She was being pulled upward, her feet flying high above the ground. She looked back; the couples were smiling and fading away into the blueness of the desert sands.

"Jane!" She heard the voices calling through the crack in the sky, which was moving ever closer and pulling her through to Asgard. Jane called back, shouting a name to come and save her from this strange blue world. She shouted and shouted the name, hoping for someone to grab her hands and pull her through the crack.

Suddenly, she felt the strong arms surrounding her body and lifting her up. The blue world disappeared and everything was Asgard and the glowing night sky and the smell of honeysuckle. She continued saying the name until she felt the darkness creeping into the corners of her eyes, and she let it take her away from the worlds.

* * *

Thor and Loki had found Jane underneath a grove of pale trees, resting on green grass that illuminated her sleeping form. They rushed over to her, Thor tossing his hammer aside and shouting Jane's name while shaking her body. Loki had remained aside and stayed silent while his brother cried out for his betrothed. Suddenly, Jane's eyes had fluttered, and she started mumbling something Loki couldn't hear. Thor leaned down, his ear held near her barely-moving lips. Suddenly, his head jerked away, and his eyes snapped to Loki's. He beckoned Loki over, and carefully passed Jane's slowly awakening body into his arms. He then stood and called for Mjolnir, and walked away from the pair, stalking back toward the palace.

Loki stared after his brother, then snapped back to Jane. Her lips were still mumbling something incoherent, and her eyes were fluttering with rapid movement. Loki leaned closer, just as his brother had done, hoping to hear her muttered words. He did not expect what he heard.

"Loki…Loki…Loki," the mortal woman repeated his name over and over, as though pleading he would appear. Suddenly, her eyes opened, and Loki gasped. They were a bright blue, a blue he had only seen in his own skin, in his true form. Although he nearly shouted her name, she seemed not to hear. She only stared upward toward the nighttime sky, then sighed and closed her eyes against the darkness. Loki's eyes snapped up again, searching for his brother, then again returned to Jane. He sighed and clasped a hand to his eyes, wondering at the situation they found themselves trapped within.

Then he lifted Jane's sleeping form into his arms and carried her toward the palace. He did not notice that, overhead, the night sky had become brighter, illuminated by a bright blue streak that flashed through the stars and glowed with a hidden passion.


	10. Like the Break of Dawn

**Hello beautiful people! I'm so sorry for the hiatus...finals can be quite distracting. I'll be updating more frequently from now on. For now, please accept this longer chapter as an apology for my lengthy break. As always, please review. You're awesome!**

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Even before she opened her eyes, Jane knew this morning was not going to be enjoyable. Her head throbbed, her limbs felt heavy, and she had an empty, shaking feeling in the pit of her stomach. The entire sensation was similar to her first tequila hangover – not an ordeal she cared to experience again. Still, the light that shone through her eyelids wasn't going away, and Jane wanted to know where she ended up. The last thing she could remember, through the throbbing headache, was the swirling green and blue orbs overhead in the night sky and the heavy scent of honeysuckle. By the smell of crisp linen and the feel of soft pillows underneath, Jane assumed she had someone stumbled out of the garden and back to her room.

Her eyes fluttered open. She stared straight overhead, looking into golden fabric that draped over the corners of a large bed. Ornate posts spiraled down from the ceiling, carved with ancient runes of protection. Jane frowned. She didn't remember learning about runes, but she could read and comprehend these with ease, even through the strange hangover. As her eyes traveled down, she noticed the white blankets that covered her body were printed with similar markings.

Someone sighed softly beside her. Jerking her head to the side, a decision she immediately regretted as a stab of pain shot through her eyes, Jane was confused at what she saw. Loki sat beside her in a simply carved white chair, deep asleep. He was still dressed in the ornate outfit from the night before. One black boot was crossed lazily over his leg, and he held his head cradled in pale white fingers, his elbow resting on the arm of the chair. A few loose strands fell in front of his face, and he slowly breathed in and out as his eyelids occasionally fluttered.

Jane stared at the dark prince. Loki was actually very beautiful, she admitted to herself. His pale skin, his black hair, his demeanor, his easy confidence, his passion – everything drew her in, and she couldn't understand or explain the feeling to herself. Jane mentally slapped herself. Loki was harsh and demanding, he was selfish and dangerous – and beautiful and powerful and gentle, like the bursting nebulae the painted the sky overhead on a moonlit night above Asgardian gardens. She swore softly, unable to knock the thoughts of his attraction, far deeper than mere fascination, from her mind.

"Ahem." The voice sounded beside her, and Jane blinked; now realizing her quiet swearing had woken the sleeping figure. Loki now stared intently at her, a soft smile playing on his lips. "Those words are not fit for a lady, Jane," he said quietly, uncrossing his legs and spreading them and leaning forward, resting his elbows on his knees. Jane laughed softly. "Perhaps I am not a lady then, Loki."

He smiled fully, letting out a laugh that was genuine and held no malice – but that was too loud for Jane's liking. She flinched as a bout of pain shot through her forehead. Loki noticed and his smile disappeared. He stood quickly and hovered over her, his hands sweeping the length of her body a few inches above her clean white covers. He frowned, and his hands stopped above her forehead. "You're in rather intense pain, Jane," Loki said softly. His hands suddenly glowed with a soft green light and he slowly lowered until they nearly rested on her aching forehead. Jane's eyes closed and she sighed, calming under the proximity of his magic.

"Stop, Loki." A voice called softly from the doorway of the room. Jane's eyes shot open, the sudden blaze of light adding to her pain. Loki's hands had stopped just above her forehead. The green light disappeared and Loki stood up, glancing toward the doorway. There, Frigga stood with clasped hands; her golden curls loosely travelling down her back. She wore a simple blue dress with long white sleeves that was belted with a slender gold band. She walked slowly to Jane's bedside and stood opposite Loki, staring gently at her son. "Loki," she said quietly, "Would you be willing to leave myself and Jane for the time being? I assure you, she will be safe with me."

Loki's eyes hardened. Jane noticed the change, feeling the patterns of the air shift with his demeanor. She turned to Frigga, hoping to change the former queen's mind, but Loki was far ahead of her. "Mother," he said, his voice rasping, "Jane is hurting, and after last night, I cannot be expected to leave her-" He was sharply cut off by a raised hand from Frigga. "I assure you, my son," she responded, her voice gentle yet firm and unyielding, "That I will watch after Jane, and that I will heal her pain. You forget, Loki, that everything you know of healing you learned from your mother." Frigga smiled and gestured toward the door. Loki's eyes blazed, but he turned without a lingering glance at either Jane or Frigga, and stalked out the door, slamming it behind him.

Jane flinched from the sudden noise, but tried to prop herself up in the presence of the former queen. Frigga noticed and smiled, pushing her shoulders back onto the soft pillows. She then stood and beckoned to a handmaiden, whom Jane had completely missed until now. The rose-clad woman stepped forward from the shadows, holding a gilded tray with two silver goblets. Frigga took both, nodded to the woman, and turned back to Jane, handing her one of the goblets. "Drink this, my dear," she said softly. "It will stop the pain." Jane took the beverage and drank eagerly. Just as Frigga said, the pain immediately dissipated with the cooling liquid. As she drained the goblet, Jane felt strong enough to sit up. She propped herself on elbows and placed the goblet on a side table, then swept her messy hair away from brightening eyes and stared at the former queen.

Frigga stared back over her own goblet, then laughed and grabbed Jane's hand. Jane, confused and wondering still about the situation she found herself, wrenched her hand away and stared suspiciously at the woman whom she once trusted. She had woken up in a strange bed with no memory of the past several hours, could suddenly comprehend runes, was being watched over by Loki – whose emotions she could strangely feel and understand – and was now being watched over by the former queen of Asgard. Everything was wrong. Where was she? What was happening? Where was Thor? What were these new feelings for Loki? Why did she feel so different? She had so many questions, and she needed Frigga to answer them before she trusted anyone in Asgard again.

"Dear Jane," the older woman said quietly, her eyes softening as she noticed the emotions flashing through Jane's eyes, "I understand you must be confused. Fear not. I will explain everything, and more will become evident in time."

Jane still eyed the woman suspiciously, but allowed herself to nod at Frigga. The older woman smiled, then lowered herself into a chair aside her bed. She paused, and then began to speak. "Jane," she said haltingly, "There is no easy way to describe what is happening to you, nor to explain who you are. I have never been one to be soft or indirect, so I will be blunt with my explanation. As a woman of science, I am sure you will appreciate my directness." Frigga raised her eyebrows at Jane, who nodded in approval. Frigga smiled and continued.

"Jane Foster, you are what we call in the old language an 'Andi-Gumi,' in your language, literally, a 'spirit-man.' You are a spiritual link between the Nine Realms, a spiritual leader whose presence only graces the realms of Yggdrasil once every two thousand years. This status comes with more power and responsibility than you cane imagine, Jane, and I am sorry for revealing this so suddenly."

"An ancient power flows through your veins, Jane. You have doubtless felt it through your dreams, through your sudden knowledge, through feelings of other-worldliness. Your responsibility to lead the spiritual direction of the Realms will be revealed in time. Now, your primary responsibility lies in strengthening the inter-Realm bond." Frigga stopped talking to glance at Jane.

The younger woman stared intently at her. Jane's eyes were wide and unblinking, her mouth hanging open slightly, her hands clenched tightly in her lap. Still, through the shock, she nodded tersely at Frigga to carry on. "But I'm only a human," Jane said softly. "How can I possibly act as this spirit-man-leader-person who is supposed to bring the Realms together?"

Frigga smiled. "That is where my son comes into the picture," she responded. Jane's eyes narrowed. "Thor?" She asked, "I suppose it makes sense. A political ruler and a spiritual leader would be able to unite the Realms through-" Frigga silenced the younger woman with a swiftly raised hand. "I do not refer to Thor, Jane," she said quietly. "Rather, I mean my younger son, Loki. Remember, Jane, you are from Earth, yet you have been gifted with the entirety of the knowledge of the Aesir. Loki is of Jotunheim, yet was raised in the halls of Asgard, and his magic springs from the knowledge of the Elves. Your skills and backgrounds span Realms, and your relationship was fated of old."

Jane stared at Frigga. She spoke slowly. "So I must work with Loki as the spiritual leader of the Nine Realms?"

Frigga laughed, then smiled brightly. "Oh, Jane," she said, "You won't simply be working with Loki. You will be joining with him through the ancient bond of Asgardian linkage. Simply put, your responsibilities begin with marrying Loki."


	11. You and I Go Hard

The halls of the Royal Palace were never empty. Maidservants, their simple dresses of rose linen and their hair swept into simple buns, hurried alongside the women they aided. Guard and soldiers stood quietly in corners and at doorways. Their golden armor gleamed in the brightly lit hallways. Royals, both leaders and courtiers, bustled quickly through the corridors, discussing politics and events and tournaments. And the halls were even busier as of late, their walls nearly bursting with guests and servants and revelers gathering for Prince Thor's pending inauguration and his marriage to his human lady.

It was through these halls that Jane Foster swept the morning after her conversation with the former queen of Asgard, Frigga. Ordinarily, her hair would be down in loosely styled ringlets that were carefully designed by her handmaidens. She would be dressed in flowing silks of pastel shades, with trains that swept behind her on the marble tiled floors. But not today. Jane was not a fool. While still reeling from Frigga's revelations about her identity as the Andi-Gumi and about her necessary marriage to Loki, she understood that with her responsibilities came power. And Jane was about to wield that power – beginning with her wardrobe.

Her hair was swept off her face, bound in tight braids that were practical for research and confrontation. Atop her braids sat a thin, silver band denoting her station. She wore black pants and a simple, deep grey tunic with sleeves that laced down her arms. Jane was comfortable and confident, and was dressed for battle with the one person she felt necessary to speak with that day.

Approaching the end of the Western Grand Hallway, Jane slowed her brisk pace as she neared her destination. The immense silver door was tightly closed. Jane was not deterred. She raised a fist and knocked twice at its golden frame. Realizing the inhabitant wasn't answering, she continued knocking, continually getting harder, until the door swung open mid-knock.

Loki stood in the doorway, his eyes blazing. He was dressed in a simple black and green shirt, laced with silver thread, which fell to his knees. Dark pants were tucked into soft leather boots. In his left hand, he held a large book, in which Jane could make out ruins referring to marriage and the Nine Realms. She slowly raised her eyes from the leather-bound book and looked into Loki's face. His mouth was set in a hard line that mirrored the annoyance in his eyes. Ordinarily, when she was dressed in fine silks and surrounded by maidservants, Jane would shy away from Loki when he was in a state such as this. But Jane no longer felt ordinary. She felt powerful and confident. She was independent, wearing pants and a simple shirt; she was ready for battle with the dark prince. This entire business needed to be sorted out now.

Jane smiled. "Prince Loki. I appear to have interrupted your reading. Apologies. Do you mind if I come in?" She stood, poised and tall, ready to enter his quarters even if he denied her entry. Much to her surprise, Loki only raised a single eyebrow, his face still impassive, and stood aside, gesturing into the room with his free hand. Jane's smile widened as she nodded her thanks, and she swept into the room.

The area she had entered was incredibly small. It was some sort of sitting room, Jane supposed. The walls were invisible behind rows and columns of shelves that towered upward toward the darkened ceiling. Three simply cushioned chairs were positioned around a deep brown table, on which rested a tray of wine and silver goblets. The white birch, wide planked hardwood floor was covered with a deep green and black rug. As Jane crossed into the room, she swept a finger along the surface of the brown table, then turned and stared at Loki. He still stood at the door, now closed, and remained stoically looking at her, a hint of curiosity playing behind his eyes.

"It's nice," Jane said quietly. "May I sit?" she asked, gesturing toward one of the cushioned chairs. Loki said nothing, only stood silently for a few more moments. He then nodded, then began sauntering toward Jane as she lowered herself into the lowest chair and helped herself to a goblet of wine. He reached the chair across from her and, grabbing the arms, sat down slowly. He never took his eyes off Jane, and never revealed his feelings.

They stared at each other for several moments as Jane drank. Loki broke their silence. "Might I ask your purpose in this visit, Lady Jane?" he asked, laying his open book across one knee and leaning back in the chair, a hint of a smile playing on his thin lips. Jane smirked. "A rather brusque way to begin polite conversation, Prince Loki. Perhaps you would prefer beginning with banalities – the weather, the tournaments, the court gossip, for example?" Loki's smile widened, and he laughed softly. "Oh, Lady Jane," he said through his laughter, "You never fail to amuse me. Well, come then. What think you of the fine weather we've been experiencing?"

Jane started, shocked he was playing along. "Well, I suppose the metrological patterns of Asgard – what?" she snapped, noticing Loki's growing laughter. He stopped long enough to answer her question. "My Lady, forgive me. I simply cannot take you seriously when you insist on playing into trivial customs." Jane's shock dissipated instantly, replaced with anger and preparedness for battle. It was now or never. "Perhaps I only choose to discuss such trivialities because I know you enjoy them, Prince Loki," she responded snidely.

Loki took the bait. His smile disappeared. He tensed in his seat, and leaned forward, his knuckles turning white with the tight grip on the armrest. His mouth was a thin, tight line that barely opened to force out a question. "I will choose to ignore that statement, my Lady, as a symptom of your lingering delirium. I will ask again. What is your purpose here?" Jane stood swiftly, responding to Loki's insults with her body as she swiftly closed the space between them. "I come for answers, Loki. I come because your mother informed me of my role as a strange spiritual leader. And I come because she told me we are fated to be married. Have you any knowledge of these things?" She finished her tirade bending down, her face at eye level with Loki's, her eyes unblinking and demanding. It wasn't one of her better ideas.

Loki stared for a few, unblinking seconds, then stood swiftly. His sudden outburst of energy knocked Jane off-balance, and she stumbled backward, falling into her previously occupied seat. It skidded backward slightly with the force of her impact, and with the strength of Loki's sudden grip on its armrests. Jane was effectively trapped, but refused to look away from Loki's seething eyes. They burned and blazed with anger and hatred – but also with passion and something deeper that Jane could not comprehend with mere words. Loki trembled with these pulsing emotions, then leaned forward, slowly, and rested his forehead against Jane's.

"Jane," he spoke quietly, "I do know of the things you speak. There are many more things I do not wish to burden you with. Prophesies, the bonds of humans and Jotuns, responsibilities. But you are weak now, and I cannot-" He was cut off by a violent shove from Jane. As Loki stumbled back and stood gaping, Jane rose swiftly to her feet. "I am weak?" she seethed at him. "I am not a fragile woman to be trifled with, Loki. I am the Andi-Gumi of our age, I am supposedly your future partner, and I am only learning of these things now. What I am not is weak. I deserve to know these things."

Loki stared, then grabbed Jane's shoulders and shoved her against the nearby bookcase. "You deserve nothing," he hissed, his eyes blazing with rage and intense passion of emotion. "You come here, to my home. You live here for less than a fortnight, and you completely upset the order that has been established for centuries. And you think you are entitled to all of these answers immediately?" Loki stopped and closed his eyes in an attempt to regain control. Jane took the opportunity and, raising a slightly trembling hand, slapping the prince across his face. He immediately released her shoulders and staggered back, clutching his reddening cheek. Jane breathed heavily, leaning back against the shelves.

They stood there for a few moments, simply staring at each other, rage blazing in both their eyes. Neither moved. Neither spoke. Then Loki stood to his full height, ran a pale hand through smooth black hair, and stepped forward, pressing Jane between his body and the bookshelves. His eyes blazed, her eyes reflected the emotion. He then grabbed her face between pale hands and pressed his lips to hers, embracing her fully in the rough and desperate embrace. She responded totally, fighting for dominance against the kiss. It was power play, it was passionate rage, and they both knew it. Loki eventually broke the kiss and stepped back, his eyes locked on the floor. They both panted heavily, refusing to look at one another.

Jane spoke first. "I thank you for your time, Prince Loki. I shall take my leave. Until tonight's banquet, my Prince." She bowed her head slightly, then stepped away from the bookshelves and hurried out the door.

Loki stood silently, staring where she stood. "Until tonight, my Lady," he said softly.


End file.
